Autism has a loud voice in Ozon’s ‘The Stranger’
Almost nothing was known about autism spectrum disorder (ASD) in the early 1940s. But in retrospect, the famed French author Albert Camus, intentionally or not, displayed a keen insight into it with his classic novel “L’Étranger.” It’s interesting how perspectives on the book have changed now, given all that we’ve learned about ASD over the past 30 years, and how that altered viewpoint very much informs François Ozon’s adaptation in “The Stranger.”
Like Camus, Ozon literally puts the affliction on trial through the story’s protagonist, Meursault (Benjamin Voisin), a Frenchman whose lack of empathy glaringly takes precedence over the life of the young Arab he’s accused of slaying on the scorching sands of an Algerian beach.
In presenting his case against Meursault, the prosecutor portrays the defendant as a “monster,” not because of his actions, but because of his nonchalant demeanor in the wake of having committed the crime. It’s very much the same complacency and ambivalence that the state contends Meursault exhibited at his mother’s funeral just weeks before the killing. And it goes directly to the point of Camus’s existential tale, which is, who has the right to dictate the perimeters of what is morally acceptable behavior: society or the individual?
It’s a question I, and I’m sure all neurodivergents, grapple with on a minute-by-minute basis; too often being judged as the “other,” much like the French imperialists judge the indigenous Algerians as being lesser than. Therein rests the ingeniousness of Camus, an absurdist philosopher troubled by the irrationality of how French culture was forced upon a city and a people that didn’t ask for it. It’s very much the same for folks like me with what used to be termed Asperger’s syndrome. Our brains are constructed differently, perceiving and reacting to stimuli in ways neurotypicals deem “abnormal.”
In faithfully adapting Camus, Ozon (“Frantz”) repeatedly reveals himself to be perfectly in tune with the burden placed on neurodivergents, not to mention the hundreds of millions of people forced to live beneath the iron fist of imperialism, something the U.S. is aggressively moving toward, rendering “The Stranger” all the more relevant and timely.
It’s also beautifully conceived, filmed in a style harkening back to the French Nouvelle Vague. It’s austere with minimal dialogue. And best of all, it’s shot in glorious black and white by Manu Dacosse. The result is a production that is perfectly evocative of Algiers in the build-up to World War II, be it the cars, the clothes, or the attitudes of a French orthodoxy that had little or no respect for the natives. Thus, revealing a hypocrisy among a society that is quick to condemn Meursault for his detachment but slow to recognize its own insouciance toward the indigent citizenry.
Like the novel, the film is divided into halves: the events leading up to the murder and the ensuing trial and punishment. The opening hour is by far the more conventional, as Ozon goes through the obligatory introduction of characters and relationships, most notably Meursault’s fateful friendship with his neighbors, Raymond Sintès (Pierre Lottin), a “warehouse worker” who is more likely an abusive pimp, and Salamano (Denis Lavant), a lonely, cranky elderly man who beats the sick aged dog he claims to be essential to his existence in the wake of his wife’s passing.
Most prominent, though, is Marie (Rebecca Marder), a former coworker he encounters while on an afternoon swim the day after his maman’s funeral. They hit it off, take in a Fernandel flick and head back to Meursault’s place for sex and possibly more. At separate points, she asks Meursault if he loves and/or wants to marry her. To which he offers a typical apathetic reply, not out of spite but because his brain interprets everything so literally that he cannot quantify something as abstract as love and marriage. It’s the same noncommittal answer he relays to his boss when offered a raise and a higher position at the home office in Paris. To Merusault, it’s all the same.
In each case, Meursault’s insolence will come back to haunt him once the trial begins and the existential questions come rushing to the fore in increasingly intriguing forms. But the most glaring are the ones in which the true “strangers” twist his words and actions to paint him as a “monster” to be feared, mostly because they are incapable of understanding the autistic mind. Nor will Meursault permit them to, even if it means the guillotine. Making matters even worse, he shuns the local priest’s attempts to offer salvation through a God Meursault steadfastly refuses to believe in because to him, faith defies logic.
Through it all, Voisin remarkably maintains a consistent stoic presence as Meursault, never shedding a tear, flashing a smile or expressing an opinion. You’d think such a man would be both dull and off-putting, but Voisin slyly wins you over, even when Meursault seems to take pleasure in what some would consider a perverse need to be a martyr. It’s a fabulous performance matched by Marder, whose Marie is by any man’s definition the perfect girlfriend, sticking to Meursault even when he’s at his most obtuse.
True, the film is deliberate and heavy on philosophy, as was Camus’s wont. But it also raises fascinating questions about existence and how we could possibly find contentment in life, knowing in the back of our minds that death awaits us at any moment. Moreover, it offers a modicum of recognition to neurodivergents like Meursault, who’ve been convicted in the court of public opinion, not for their deeds, but for an innate inability to cry on cue.
True, Meursault is guilty, his motive as enigmatic as his existence. But the movie in no way exonerates him. What it does is call attention to the dangers of groupthink and how it can make life for the marginalized even more isolating. In that respect, “The Stranger” succeeds, allowing autism to not just speak, but to yell at the top of its lungs.
Movie review
The Stranger
Rated: Not rated
Cast: Benjamin Voisin, Rebecca Marder, Pierre Lottin and Denis Lavant
Director: François Ozon
Writer: François Ozon
Runtime: 122 minutes
Where: In New York City theaters April 3 (limited); going wider April 10
Grade: B+
